Race to Save Neverland
by OhhEmmGeeOlivia
Summary: Wendy frowned; he was certainly not a boy anymore. Not yet a man, but nearly there. He had grown. They stood face to face for a while before Peter spoke. "Neverland's dying."
1. Chapter 1

**This is for my creative writing class, but I wanted to know what you all thought!**

A chill swept through the room, causing its occupant to shiver. Autumn weather was already around and October was showing no mercy for those still hanging onto the warmer weather.

Wendy walked across the room and shut the window, her shadows bouncing off the walls as she made her way back over to her bed. She had long since grown used to the quiet darkness. John and Michael have been attending a boarding school a few hours away. They didn't visit very often.

She climbed into bed and leaned against her headboard. She wasn't tired, but it wasn't right to be awake so late. Her parents would certainly disapprove. They did most things. She glanced at the book on her bedside table. It was dreadfully boring, and Wendy loathed it. But it was proper to be reading such a book. So she read it without complaint.

Wendy contemplated reading it when she heard a creak.

She eyed the room hesitantly. Something wasn't right. Easing out of bed, she slid into her slippers and grabbed a candle. Cautiously, she approached the window and opened it. A slight breeze hit her before she peered out. Tightly gripping the candle holder she took in the sight of London. It was really quite beautiful.

Wendy was about to turn away when a strong gust of wind blew her candle light out. Curiously, she turned back to face the window. A boy, roughly her age, was there. Right there. Messy hair and shiny green eyes. Her heart stopped.

"Peter." She breathed, not believing what she was seeing. He was really here. She frowned; he was certainly not a boy anymore. Not yet a man, but nearly there. He had grown. They stood face to face for a while before Peter spoke.

"I need your help."

"What's wrong?" Wendy asked.

_"Neverland's dying."_

Wendy's eyes widened. Without thought, she moved aside to let Peter in. She almost felt as if she were twelve again. But she wasn't. And neither was he.

"What- I don't understand- How-" Wendy stuttered, not being able to form complete sentences.

"Everything's started growing, and the elders have already begun to die." Peter paused and she let it sink in. "It's not the same Neverland you knew, it's changed. You might not even recognize it. Sometimes I don't. But it's still Neverland and I need you help to me save it."

Wendy closed her eyes. She must be dreaming. This simply cannot be real.

Why now? Why did he have to come now? She had finally accepted things the way they are, that she were to grow up and let her memories of him fade into childish delusions.

All those nights she stayed up, staring out the window waiting for some kind of sign that it really happened. Wendy tried in vain to convince her parents of the truth, but there came a time when she was too old for that kind of thing, and they became fed up.

Even John and Michael stopped mentioning. Stopped believing. They now had dreams of being senators and politicians. It was bred into them at their school. And it physically hurt when John told Wendy he didn't want to hear her non-sense stories anymore, or when Michael became too sophisticated to sneak down to the kitchen with her for a midnight snack.

And Wendy hoped. She had always hoped. But with each night that past, the days became more real and she realized that she was being ridiculous. What made her so special that he would come back to take her away? What made her so sure she didn't get caught up in her imagination? Or at least, that's what she told herself.

And she was just beginning to believe it.

She did the most reasonably thing she could think of in that moment; Wendy pinched herself. But when she opened her eyes, there Peter was, standing in her bedroom. Looking exceptionally out of place.

"Peter, I can't just leave." She refused to meet his eyes, settling instead on fiddling with a loose string from her nightgown. "I've got responsibilities and my family to think about… I can't go with you." Peter crossed his arms stuck out his chin stubbornly.

"Why not?" She looked up at him, exasperated. He hadn't changed at all!

"Because I just _can't_, Peter! I'm not going to up and leave this time. I couldn't do that to my parents again. They'd be worried sick!" Wendy exclaimed.

Peter narrowed his eyes, taking a step towards her. "Well what about the people and creatures in Neverland. Think about how worried _they_ are."

She sighed. "Growing up is a part of life. It's inevitable. I suppose even Neverland couldn't play pretend forever."

"So you expect me to just give up?"

"No, Peter. I expect you to _grow up_." Wendy snapped. "My home is here in London and I grow up every day. I am sorry for you, I truly am. But your fear of becoming a man is not my problem." A tense silence settled atop of them, and Wendy begrudgingly felt the need to dispel it. "Even if I wanted to go, which I _don't_, I wouldn't be able to fly. You don't have any pixie dust."

"Then you'll just have to have some faith and trust." Peter turned away before starting for the window. Once there, he bent slightly and looked at her expectantly. "Well? Hop on." Wendy looked at him, appalled.

"You don't really expect me to… I am not going to ride your back to Neverland! I'm not going." She stated, stamping her foot for emphasis. Peter stood up straight, frustrated.

"Have it your way then." Before she knew what was happening, Peter had picked her up and thrown her over his shoulder. Like a sack of potatoes. Wendy furiously began pounding on his back and kicking at him.

"Peter Pan you put me down right now!" He ignored her protests, only pausing when they were standing on the windows ledge.

He could still set her back down and walk way. She could brush this off as a dream from the past and continue living her life the way she was told. They could both leave well enough alone.

Peter smirked.

"But where's the fun in that?" He stuck out his foot and then they were falling from the window. Wendy's voice got caught in her throat as they shot upwards, getting higher and higher.

**What did you think? Sorry for any mistakes/errors. I don't know if I'm going to post the continuation of this or leave it as a one shot, so let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Some of you wanted more, so I'm going to try my best to deliver. I might not be updating frequently, and for that I apologize in advance. Any suggestions/criticisms would be much appreciated.**

Wendy had no idea what to do with her arms. They just dangled, having nothing to hold onto to. Her curls surrounded her view; the only other sight being the ground.

Peter's arm was wrapped around her legs and Wendy was terrified he'd forget she was there and let go. She felt the need to remind him.

"You know," She began, moving some hair out of her way, "this technically constitutes as kidnapping." Wendy felt, rather than heard, him chuckle.

"Well you should know that I don't own a conscience. Pesky things, they are." She scowled at the back of his head even though Peter couldn't see it. She hoped somehow he'd feel her resentment.

"I think you're overreacting." Wendy stated, trying in vain to see his face. He said nothing. "I don't know how you expect me to help you. Surely there must be someone else more suited." More silence. Her temper was starting to rise. "If you think I'm going to help you with anything after you forcibly removed me from my house, you're delusional." Wendy snapped. Why she thought she could force him to see reason was beyond her.

"Well seeing as you don't have a choice in the matter and since you're this high up in the sky, at my mercy, I think you'd be smart to do as I ask." Peter told her arrogantly, intentionally rising higher. "I gave you a choice. It's not my fault you chose the wrong option." Wendy let out a noise at his gall. And then gave into her anger. Kicking at him repeatedly. If she was lucky she would hit his face. She awkwardly began pounding against his back, occasionally using her nails to leave a mark. She'd be damned if he took her without a fight.

Peter grunted, trying to keep his hold on her. "Would you just _stay still_?"

"Put me down!" Wendy screamed, reaching behind her to pull his hair. She felt a surge of satisfaction when he yelped. Score one for Wendy.

"You wanna go down?" Peter asked roughly. There was something in his voice that she couldn't discern. But she wasn't all that concerned. She had bigger, more important problems.

"Yes!" She told him. In hindsight, she really should have foreseen what would happen next. Peter gripped her legs with both arms over his one shoulder.

"Have it your way then." He shoved her off of him, sending her plummeting to the ground. Wendy promptly began screaming; she shut her eyes and waited for impact. A few seconds later she slammed into something solid. Not asphalt, as she anticipated, but a person. Arms wrapped under her, securing her position. Hesitantly, she cracked open one of her eyes to see Peter's smug grin as he carried her in his arms. He raised his eyebrows.

"You were saying?" Her face heated and Wendy wanted nothing more than to smack that superior look off of his face. She settled for gritting her teeth and glaring.

"Not a word." His proud silence was almost as bad. She chose to look anywhere other than his face. If he was going to act like this then she wasn't going to acknowledge him. Nothing is worse than an attention seeker. Especially one like Peter.

A few minutes later she felt his arms slacken, and in a bout of irrational fear, she grasped his arms tightly. Peter shifted her slightly, adjusting his hold on her. While his attention was elsewhere, she peered over his arms. It was a long way down. She didn't remember everything looking so frighteningly small last time she had flown above London. Wendy pressed herself closer to him, her eyes squeezed shut. She could feel the cold wind piercing her face, causing her to shake. Peter felt it.

"What's the matter, Wendy?" Peter mocked, his eyes twinkling. "Scared?" And though it would be perfectly understandable to admit as much, she didn't want to. Maybe it was a miniscule part of her adolescence that still lingered; maybe it was the fact that she had spent years dreaming of this very moment until she forced herself to put those dreams to bed. Or maybe, just maybe, she didn't want to disappoint Peter and confess her fear of adventure. She was well acquainted with disappointment and wouldn't wish the feeling on anyone. Wendy scoffed.

"Hardly." She said, trying her best to sound unaffected when she was anything but. "It's cold. I have warmer nightgowns, but I didn't exactly plan to be taken in the middle of the night. Next time, I'll be sure to plan ahead." Her voice dripped with sarcasm Peter stubbornly refused to acknowledge.

"That's a good idea. Expect the unexpected. Besides," He said, offhandedly, "there are much worse things that could've happened." Begrudgingly, she was curious. And you know what they say about curiosity. Wendy asked anyway.

"Like what?" She inquired slowly, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"Like nothing exciting ever happening and being stuck in a life where you read boring books and do boring things because you're told. And that, Wendy, is much worse than anything I could ever do to you." This sent Wendy into silence. She couldn't find a way to tell him he was wrong because he wasn't. And she loathed him for it. She loathed his ability to ignore what he was supposed to do in favor of what he wanted to do. She loathed not being brave enough to do the same.

In order to express such loathing, she condemned herself to ignoring him the entire flight. Which was difficult because he didn't even try to converse with her afterwards and was her sole transportation anywhere. It was a difficult task ignoring the person keeping you from certain death.

Soon, Neverland was in sight, and Wendy didn't realize she was holding her breath until it was all knocked out of her. Neverland was so… wild. Like civilization was merely a rumor. The trees were looming over everything, bursting with who knows what inside of them. They began descending towards the forest, when even Wendy couldn't disagree; Neverland was in trouble. How she played into this after four years of absence, she'll never know. If she squinted hard enough and tilted her head just so, she could make out the outline of a ship's mast off coast on the other side of the island. Pirates. That was one thing she never missed. Taking in the sight of the magnificent, untamed island, Wendy forgot who she was with and was immediately reminded when they both dropped a few feet down. She dug her nails into Peter's upper arm and glared daggers at him.

"That wasn't funny Peter." This 'adventure' was going to give her a fear of heights. More specifically, a fear of falling and dying with a dramatic _splat_. Peter, bemused yet unconcerned, tightened his grip on her.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" He told her. Wendy let out a very un-ladylike snort. Her mother would have been horrified.

"Who did it then?" She asked, condescendingly. "The mermaids? Hook?" He rolled his shoulder in agitation. He had forgotten how much the girl loved to hear her own voice. "The fairies?" A wave of realization passed over his face. Wendy only had enough time to send him a strange look before they dropped out of the sky like flies. They didn't even have enough time to brace themselves as they crashed through the top of the trees, falling onto branches, getting wacked in the face with thorns. Peter tried to grab hold of one branch he almost hit, but it snapped and accompanied them with their fall.

Peter had planned to play Wendy's arrival with stealth and precision; her screams, however, were tearing apart what smidgen of a plan he had. And if she died, the trip to London would all be for naught. Thinking quickly, Peter shot out a hand and grabbed Wendy's plunging form, the ground rapidly approaching. He held onto her and twisted so he took most of the impact. They hit the ground with a big thud. Peter felt the breath knocked out of him. He was already beginning to regret his decision.

Wendy groaned and rolled off of Peter, onto the forest floor, looking up at the damage they caused on their decline. Her entire body hurt. Wendy felt disoriented and dizzy, yet she still managed to turn to Peter and say, "That wasn't funny." Peter, however, was not amused. One he regained his breath; Peter hauled himself and Wendy onto their feet.

"We should start moving if we want to be at the tree soon." He told her, picked a leaf out of his hair, and began moving through the trees. Bushes, flowers, and who knows what else. Wendy raised her eyebrows.

"You mean we're not flying?" Wendy was glad to at least have something on her feet; slippers were hardly fit for hiking through a possibly treacherous forest. Peter rolled his eyes and sighed, like it was such a chore to explain.

"Did we not just fall from the sky?" Peter asked rhetorically. Wendy opened her mouth to retort, but he wouldn't let her. "Don't you think if I could've flown, I wouldn't have hit the ground?" Well, he had Wendy there. "We'll have to go on foot."

The trek through the woods was slow going; Wendy's nightgown continuously getting caught on spare branches, or a thicket bush, was becoming a significant hindrance to their journey. Peter sighed as they stopped. The fabric was caught on an awkward branch and refused to come loose. After much useless tugging and pulling, she turned to him.

Exasperated, "A little help would be appreciated."All he did was raise an eyebrow, his arms crossed in front of him. Wendy growled under her breath and went back to the problem at hand. They would never get to Hangman's tree by nightfall if they kept stopping like this, Peter realized. Neverland has changed and grown so much, it was no place to be in the dark.

Wendy began yanking at the material harshly. This was becoming ridiculous. After a particularly firm pull, the sound of cloth ripping filled the heavy silence of the forest. Alarmed, Wendy froze. She was left staring down at the tear in her nightgown going up to her knee. A clothing mishap was definitely not what she needed.

"Great," Wendy exclaimed emotionally, dramatically throwing her arms up in defeat. "Just great! My nightgown is totally, completely ruined. What am I supposed to tell my parents? And-" Peter stopped listening to her rant.

Without her noticing, he began to make his way back over to her. All her focus was on the mess that was nightgown. So she didn't see him pull out his dagger. Wasn't aware as he firmly grasped the split fabric in his hands. Her current state of dress was simply too distracting for Wendy to comprehend what Peter was doing. She was finally clued in when he cut along the same length of her rip. Completely severing the lower half of her gown from just above the knees. It fell away from her, hanging limply from the branch it was caught on.

Wendy gaped at him. "What did you just do?!" Her voice rising higher and higher as she frantically clawed at the frayed, jagged edges of her nightgown. She watched him incredulously as he slid his dagger into his belt, unaffected by what just happened. She couldn't understand how he didn't grasp the severity of the situation.

"I helped." He stated blandly, amused at her growing agitation. "Now we won't have to stop every ten feet because you don't know how to maneuver your way out of anything. You're welcome." Wendy just stared at him. She couldn't go around Neverland in a ripped nightgown! It was indecent! And she opened her mouth to tell him so, but Peter had no intentions of waiting. They had lost enough time already, and he wasn't going to waste more just to hear her incessant nagging. He turned around and began hiking forward, completely ignoring her protests and pleas to fix the ruined gown.

"I'm still in my nightgown. I'm not decent!" She exclaimed, crossing her arms to cover her chest.

"You wore a nightgown last time you were here." He pointed out.

"Yes, but that was four years ago. It's different now."

"How different?" Peter asked, bewildered.

"Um…" Wendy trailed off, wracking her head for a suitable answer. "Well, it's just—you know it's not…" She stumbled over her words, her face growing red. It wasn't like he really knew better. But… how was she supposed to explain that to him? And did she even want to? After her father had 'the talk' with John he wasn't able to look her in the eye for a week. Michael wasn't nearly as back, but there were many awkward pauses in the days following. She shifted uncomfortably, fumbling for an excuse. Peter crossed his arms.

"It's not _what_?" His voice took on an innocent tone that she immediately didn't trust. Like he knew exactly how different it was. Wendy narrowed her eyes. A light smirk began to grace his features. She let out a sound of indignation and stomped ahead of him, upset that he made her look foolish. Yet, a small part of her was relieved. It wouldn't be up to her after all to explain everything. Thank God for that. She heard Peter crash through the underbrush to catch up with her. "I don't think you have anything to worry about." He said sweetly in an attempt to placate her.

A warm, muggy wind met them, lifting up the remains of her nightgown ever so slightly. That just won't do. It wasn't dragging on the ground now, but there wasn't anything to hold it down. And it was clear that if she wanted anything done, and done right, she'd have to figure a way to do it herself. Wendy eyed the surrounding greens before pinpointing a sturdy looking vine.

"May I see your knife?" Wendy asked calmly and reserved. Peter seemed wary, but handed it over none the less. Keeping a firm grip on the handle, she cut through a long section of vine. She returned his dagger and secured her dress with the vine. Wendy frowned at her attire. "That's just going to have to do." She had just begun moving forward when she became aware of Peter's state. But when she turned to look at him, he quickly turned away. Wendy suppressed her grin.

She tried not to feel pleased when Peter's gaze lingered a tad bit longer than boys should. But then, she reminded herself, he wasn't a boy anymore.

**So I ended up writing another story for my class because there was no way I could limit this one to a few pages. I got a 94. But worry not! I plan to continue this story and I really hope you guys like it. Tell me what you think! **


End file.
